Still Small Things
by newslayer
Summary: Constituency of One" Post-Ep (AmyJosh)


**STILL SMALL THINGS**

**Disclaimer:** Um, nothing mine I guess. And I mean *NOTHING*. Well, maybe the plot. Yeah, that'd be it. 

**Author's Note:** After a small tour around the 'net, I concluded that there are not enough Josh/Amy fanfics out there. That of course prompted my will to contribute to the cause, even in the form of a sappy, never-true-to-the-facts, story like this one. I've probably made a lot of mistakes regarding continuity, and I've definitely made up a fact or two. But hey, that's why they put the 'fiction' part, right?   
This is a post-ep for "Constituency of One". And let me give you a piece of advice. Never, ever watch "Constituency of One" first _and then_ "Jefferson Lives". I did, and I was like 'Yeah! Amy's still working there! And Josh kissed her!'   
I'm an idiot, I know. You know. We know. Consider yourself warned now. 

**Rating: **PG, I think.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________ _"And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake:_   
_And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice."_ _1 Kings 19:11 - 12_ He didn't expect to find her sitting there, halfway sprawled across the counter of one of the bars they often went to, nursing her drink as if it was the most precious thing in the world. 

He did, and somehow, wasn't surprised. He considered turning around and leaving -- he hadn't been really looking for her, and after all, he was still pretty mad at her. But something in the way she held herself and the lost look in her eyes made him stay and take a place beside her. It frightened him to identify that something as vulnerability, an adjective so not Amy-like. 

He wasn't exactly certain of what he was doing. He had excused himself early from his surprise birthday party. Honestly planning on going home after a hellish day. This fit nowhere that plan. 

He ordered himself a drink and she flinched slightly, almost imperceptibly, at his voice -- the only sign of acknowledgement from her. But her gaze remained fixed on the bottom of her glass, and it would have burnt two deep holes on the wood of the counter, had she been graced with the power to affect things by simply looking at them. 

Then again, if that were the case, he would have been in trouble more than once. 

His drink came, and he took a sip carelessly. He could barely remember the last time he had been silent for so long with no apparent reason not to speak. He figured it had been even longer since the last time she had been speechless, with or without cause. 

She sighed, involuntarily he perceived, and the helplessness that it brought to the sight of her made him wish he could just sweep her off her feet like a white knight in armor and vanquish that troubled expression off her face. 

But Amy Gardner, feminist extraordinare, was not the damsel in distress type and she sure as hell wouldn't appreciate the analogy. 

"Hey" He said, taking another sip off his drink. She smirked, but didn't say anything. 

She obviously hadn't had much to drink yet. He wondered if the untouched glass in front of her was the first one, and considered that maybe he had mistaken the deepest sadness for drunken melancholy. 

The thought scared him even more. But that was fine, because fear made adrenaline pump through his veins and that was what had kept him on top of the hill for the last years. 

"What, no witty comeback?" 

"I don't think I have been really successful with words today, J." Amy looked up at him for the first time in the night, and he took a peek at her inner turmoil. Her confidence had been shot to hell, and she looked disappointed and utterly lost. 

Whatever trace of anger towards her had remained in his system had just flown out the window. 

She looked every bit of the girl he had found years ago, crying in the bathroom of his dorm after being dumped by her boyfriend. His first impulse, as it was now, had been to hold her. He hadn't though. He wondered how different things would have been, had he given in to his instincts. 

"President Bartlet didn't fire you, at least. I wouldn't call that a complete failure" 

Her glare was not even a weak shadow of what it usually was. She was drained, he noticed, and it showed. 

"I managed to piss off the most powerful man on Earth in a way not even his daughter's captors had. I guess I should be proud." She brought the glass tentatively to her lips and took a small sip. 

"We all realize it was for a good cause. Besides, it's not like you haven't done that before." 

She rehearsed a smile, brief but genuine. And then she went back to silent mode, leaving him on his own to fight the urge to kiss her. 

Their relationship had been hard to read for everyone, including themselves, and that was probably the reason why it had been constantly on and off. Josh could bring to his memory many wonderful moments when the company of the other had been the only solace, the balm that could make the background noise of life disappear. But those had been spontaneous moments, and their story was also plagued by other moments - just as important, just as defining - that had not gone as well. It seemed that for them, improvisation was better than knowing the tune by heart. 

Traditional moves, socially accepted behavior, simply didn't work well. 

Yet somehow his hand had carelessly found its way towards hers. He half expected to hear the sound of things crashing around him, but nothing happened. 

Perhaps, they just had been trying a little bit too hard. 

"Come back to the White House tomorrow." He pleaded. 

"I'm starting to think the White House is not really my scene." He winced. There were times when the White House felt more like home to him than his own house, and she knew it. She knew it very well. 

"C'mon. Don't do anything until you talk to the First Lady." 

"What, so she can be the one to kick my *ss?" He smiled coyly while shaking his head. 

"So I won't have to wait til I'm off work to see you" 

Her sad smile turned to a well defined smirk and suddenly she seemed to have shifted back to her usual self, slipping her hand off his grip and into her purse, tossing some money on the counter - not really paying attention as to how much - and making her way through the crowd and out of the place. Neglecting her almost untouched drink. Leaving him wondering what had gone wrong, making him follow her out. 

She considered hailing a cab right then and there, but her pent up emotions were too much to swallow all at once. Voicing them was inevitable, and she turned around taking a couple of steps back in order to do so. 

"Us, you and me, it doesn't work like this." 

"I don't -- I... Wh --" 

He could already see the memo. Mark this date on the calendar, fellows. Josh Lyman has been found babbling like a moron because of a woman. 

He drew a deep breath, as if trying to order the ideas in his head. And that was okay, because she was having a few problems herself. Definitely not her day with words, she considered. 

"I thought we were doing just fine." He managed after a few seconds. "I don't understand why leaving the White House has to mean deserting us as well. What was so terrible about it? Or is it just an excuse to get rid of me? What is it exactly about the idea of being me that you find so unacceptable? So disgusting?" 

"Nothing! Everything!" She practically screamed, waving her hands in the air more vehemently than she had ever intended to. Amelia Gardner was choking on the words, and her frustration and impotence needed a way out other than her usual polished, sharpened speech. 

Definitely not her day. 

She wanted to yell, and run, and hit something. So she did the only thing that neither of them had ever expected her to do. 

She burst into tears. 

He would have thought the act was a little bit out of character for her, but his current despair wasn't exactly one of his defining qualities. He was Josh Lyman. He was always in control, his vengeful eye recording every fact, watching every detail. 

Now he couldn't remember if he had ever been mad at her in the first place. And his eloquence was nowhere to be found. 

"What's wrong?" He asked. 

Amy wanted to slap him. She just whimpered. 

"What's wrong?" He repeated. 

People walking down the street had started to cast curious glances at them. If there was a day he was most likely to be recognized by anybody, this was it. 

He sighed, and slumped his shoulders, defeated. Or so he thought. 

"I want to be with you." Her whisper came out loud enough, and she immediately had his undivided attention. "I want to be with you." She repeated louder, and it was all he could do to restrain himself from kissing her. 

It wasn't all she could do though. Being pushed back was a new experience for him, and so was being hit repeatedly on the chest. His puzzled look was transparent enough, asking her to explain her actions. 

"I hate you." Amy proclaimed. 

Josh vowed he would never again try to understand women. Furthermore, he was now certain that nobody was capable of understanding that particular subject. Not even herself. 

"Are you crazy??" He spit unconsciously. 

"Yes!" She yelled, looking somehow relieved. "I'm crazy about you, and I hate you because of that! I hate the fact that you make me act like a teenager, and do stupid things, like leaking that story. I hate the fact that I never came first, and I hate the fact that you took my self confidence and shred it to pieces with one look at your assistant!" 

Okay, so perhaps the problem was that the real issue was in fact something very simple. Or primal, at least. 

Amy Gardner was, after all, a woman. He rubbed his eyes, the weight of the day starting to show. 

"Please don't tell me that's what this all comes down to." 

She threw him an infuriated look and turned around and started to walk away, and Josh found himself chasing after her for the second time in the night. 

Blame it on PMS, he thought. Then again, she probably had a point. 

"Amy, wait. You're right." She stopped dead on her tracks, for she knew how rare it was to hear him saying those words. 

"Am I?" 

"Completely. I'm sorry. I realize it must be hard for you to know I'm working with Donna all the time, hearing what people say, having her call me all the time..." 

His apology made her feel in control again and her defense mechanism kicked in, helping her regain her attitude. She rolled her eyes slightly. 

"Don't flatter yourself, Special J." 

But they both knew how truthful his words were. She sighed before continuing. 

"I'm over 40, and my biological clock is ticking, Josh. I want to settle down and have someone other than my dog to go home to. But you know what? I'm not waiting for something to happen because something is already happening. And that terrifies me. Because you seem so clueless, like it doesn't mean anything to you." 

"You were the one who didn't want to define our relationship." 

"Well, excuse me if I didn't want to get my heart stomped on any further. Because that is part of what's going on too. You're always holding back. There is so much I don't know about you, and she seems to know everything there is to know. You came to me and asked me about it, being under the false pretend that I actually run this relationship when the truth is that, as much as I'd like to think otherwise, you're the one in control here." 

Josh felt guilty beyond words. 

"Donna and I are friends, and she knows a lot about me, she mothers me. We've spent most of the last, what, seven years together? I realize our relationship may not seem... correct according to usual boss-employee standards..." 

"She's in love with you." 

"...and she's probably in love with me, yes." He finished, looking at her right in the eye. 

"So you knew." 

He nodded. "I'm not oblivious, I heard things and I started to pay more attention." She folded her arms against her chest, a quizzical look in her eyes. 

"But if I acknowledge that, then I have to fire her. And I can't do this without her." 

Her face fell slightly, but she struggled to keep her emotions in check, to keep the blank expression in her face. Her eyes gave her away though, and she had to look away. 

"I know." She commented. "Working at the White House magnified all those perceptions, and I couldn't commit seriously to a relationship with you if you weren't willing to commit just as seriously. I--" 

"I chose you. I choose you. If I wanted Donna, I would be with her. But I'm not, because you're the one I want to be with." 

Not many words could render her speechless, but those seemed to do the trick very well. 

She wanted to believe him. She really wanted to, and he knew that. He also knew that he was making things difficult for the both of them, therefore it would be his responsibility to make them better, somehow. Even if it meant a double effort on his side. 

Because she was worth it. And he had known it all the way. 

"Come home with me." He smiled softly, and she soon found herself doing the same thing as she took a step towards him. Josh closed the distance between them by taking her into his arms, and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. 

A wave of relief washed over him, and he clung to her as if afraid she would slip through his embrace. But she was doing the exact same thing. 

She sniffed. 

"Your boss hates me." She laughed as they parted. He chuckled. 

"Your boss is not very fond of me either." He offered. 

"Josh." 

"Yeah?" 

"Let's go home." She said. And she meant it in every way. 

- END   
_____________________________________________________________________________________________   
_Written by Mary S._


End file.
